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In the October 16 issue of Entertainment Weekly, there appears a short article in which Tyler Perry reveals he was the victim of extreme abuse as a child. Child molestation and its corollary abuses are criminal and repugnant on any level, to anyone. I hardly lack the compassion to not feel this was a terrible thing. However he and fellow spotlight whore, Oprah Winfrey are set to profit from this muy pronto by wide release of Winfrey’s latest cinematic cash cow.* I’m sure some of the take will go to charities they support. Anyone know how much? Odd they are so circumspect in that arena. Sweet restraint. If only they’d do it everywhere else.

I don’t like those two people. They exploit their pain in the name of helping others. Perry has been very successful wearing a dress & making movies of it. We all know what Oprah does. Though frankly, I’m not sure. She has a magazine which features her on the cover. Every issue. Excessive at best, egoistic certainly. Does she even know O is the title of a major erotic novel. She’s obviously aware it’s the Periodic Table symbol for oxygen, as she’s full of hot air. Regardless, Winfrey was also famously the victim of family horrors. Who knew it could be so profitable? Repeatedly. I’m guessing they did, every chance they got. It separates them from me, I know that for sure.

One has to question the motives of tossing this information out into the media, like chum to sharks. Does it help the sadly large numbers of others who have suffered and currently are suffering? Many of them in silence. Is it going to give the courage to some boy to put on a female family member’s clothing & upload it onto You Tube—in hopes he’ll hit number one, as opposed to being hit by someone. Most likely it will make him or her a target to a larger circle of creeps. Or worse. We’ll have another Tyler Perry. There will of course, never be another Oprah. Thank God & Steadman for that-amen.

They are not the only people to regurgitate their traumatic lives. MacKenzie Phillips just wrote a book and went on some shows to talk about her incestuous episodes with her father, John Phillips aka Papa John of The Mamas & the Papas, a successful folk-rock group in the Sixties. Papa John—not to be confused with the pizza magnate, though there is an awful joke there, I’ll skip it, was known to get doped up & was quite the ladies man. Apparently ( no pun-OK it is ) he had no governor on which lady, all were fair game. Maybe Mac will have a Lifetime movie. I’m guessing Valerie Bertinelli won’t be in it.

So, I’m sorry Tyler, I had no idea you were so fucked up. Listening to you speak, reading about your work, seeing how you want to own an island—I never guessed. But hey Oprah—try featuring something else on the cover of O magazine other than your fat face. You don’t see Malcolm Forbes on the cover of Forbes —what? he’s dead, machts nichts schnickelfritz, you think I don’t suspect you have a clause stating O runs your mug until the end of the universe?

And oh yeah, I was abused. But I don’t wear a mu mu for money in bad flicks. And I wouldn’t. I might use it to dodge a war. But hey, I ain’t stoopit.

LeBron James is a great basketball player in the NBA (National Basketball Association) & a young man, the league uses as one of its premier representatives. Last night he walked off the court after his team the Cleveland Cavaliers was eliminated from the championship chase by the Orlando Magic. Mr. James is now catching heat from all the jock sniffing media for not speaking into the mics these jerkoffs stick in your face win or lose. Awwwwwww too bad for them.

WTF do they think he feels or would have to say? they don’t care–he & and all the players owe them. Sure they do. It’s part of their contract – they routinely spout. Sure it is. But every once in awhile how about some media freak makes the human choice too. The choice to not intrude in the name of a clichéd soundbyte. One thing I always loathed about all of the jockocracy, is their lack of grasping basic human emotions in the now. They’re great at it after the fact, telling the athletes they feed off of, how to act, on and off the basketball court. Where is the true immaturity here?

I am no fan of the NBA—those guys don’t even play basketball the way it was invented by James Naismith in 1891. When LeBron James decided to break free and join the professional ranks straight out of high school, I saw a person ready to cash in, skip the phoney college bs & get the bling. But he has been a phenomenon, not just in his skills on the court, but as a model of good behavior. Trust me, he’s a rare man for his age and role, which is 24. I’m glad he is. The history of the recent NBA is rife with thugs—bad dudes guilty of, well, you name it. LeBron was & is a breath of fresh air.

Now, by not shaking the hand of Orlando opponent Dwight Howard or “facing” the media music, it’s time for the media to rip another of their false idols off a pedestal. The carrion eaters are circling, cawing and nipping at James. Oh what a bad man—he’s angry, tired and beaten. But he needs to be a man. Some real men get pissed off at what other perfect (jerks) consider inappropriate times. For them. Most athletes are not exciting extemporaneous speakers. For all my antipathy toward them, I prefer to hear from the media when it comes to commentary on a sporting event.

Jock sniffers live to suck up to all things jock—to call old fools “coach.” To scream orgasmically over a play, then drool over it until something replaces it. In a what have you done for us lately world, LeBron James has made a fatal error, he didn’t do what is expected of him by the peanut gallery. Because he didn’t kiss their fat asses the way they kiss his. When the quid pro quo goes unbalanced, the media has the tools to lash out. And they are pretty much just that—tools. . ..

Give LeBron a break. You two faced vultures. Wasn’t there enough free food to eat in Disney World? When you can’t shoot the 3 from downtown at the buzzer, you can give a press conference and cheerfully explain how you lost the big one.

Though it is said there are no absolutes in life, I’m pretty sure this is one: I don’t know everything. I used to have a favorite line I coined for just myself. It went like this: There are entire buildings devoted to all the things I don’t know. They are called libraries.

The Internet has made the library a bit less trafficked. Though many have adapted, DVD loans are always up. AND most also let you access the net there too. When I am homeless, I intend to spend a lot of time at the library. I have no faith in the Tyler Perry Plan and/or I’ll need the net to check how my SAG & AFTRA residuals are flowing, until I can buy my own island.

But that’s not why I’m here today. Today, I’d like to point out to readers of blogs a salient fact. Web logs are like columns. In the olden days, when newspapers & magazines meant something, having a column was something a writer earned. Sure, maybe they were getting it on with the editor. Maybe they actually went to Journalism School ( really a department in a college or university ). They spent their days & nights, doing scut work, getting a beat, and pounding it for years, while eating as many free press buffets as possible. One day, they write something that gets them noticed. If it happens a few more dozen times, if sales went up & you were[deleted] the editor, you probably got a column. Or fired, because they refused to give you more money. I was a Journalism major. I quit it.

Columns express the point of view & opinion of that writer and are set on or near the editorial section, that’s why they are called Op/Ed. Some people who read columnists & blogs don’t understand that distinction. While no one suggests any writer ever has carte blanche—editors still edit—columnists are not reporters. They don’t need to have facts or quotes. They may choose to use them to avoid libel suits—a good practice. Hey! even the NY Times had a reporter ( or 2 ) fabricating stories. Those were purportedly fact based. Had he or she been a columnist, it wouldn’t have been the same ethical issue. I’m not erudite or knowledgeable enough to do a full tutorial on journalism fine print, but readers do need to know the difference.

Yes–some bloggers are in the business of disseminating facts. They can also be reporters. For example Rick Reilly is a columnist, Selina Roberts is a hack, erm, reporter cum author. If I were working for say, Sports Illustrious or ISPN, I can’t say Manny Ramirez is a poophead. Mostly. Here I can. This is because Manny isn’t going to find me & knock me down. This is for a few reasons—one: though I am old, I don’t have any game tickets he needs. Two: he can’t read. See! that’s probably not true ( cough-yes it is ). But I don’t have to answer to anyone when I’m a jerk. Kind of like Manny! Again, not nice. Peter Gammons can get away with some stuff now because he is in the Hall of Fame & 2 years ago his brain blew up & he recovered. That aside, as a guitarist, he’s meh. But as a rule Pete won’t stoop to name calling. Yes, because he has integrity. And he doesn’t need a lawsuit after all those hospital bills.

So, if some blogger disses your team or your school or your mama, they might not fact check it. Well, maybe not your mama. Don’t expect the person to have three verifiable sources. Or even a source. Unless Mountain Dew Voltage ( I like it ) counts. Meanwhile I heard this awesome rumor about Tyler Perry & Dame Edith. I’d like to tell you, but I am waiting on 12 solid ( albeit fluid ) sources. When I get back from WalMart with my 12 pack, you’ll be the first to know. That’s if it’s still on sale.

Dateline: Moronia

The no talent referred to in the previous post has announced he’s buying an island. This is purportedly to celebrate his 40th birthday. And the fact that there are a lot of stupid people spending their money on his crap movies. I think he just wants a place where he can lounge around in a mumu and not have to bother about the man part of his wardrobe. He’s not that rich, saving is saving, once you have a whole island to support.

My sources have located his realtor*, here is his dream list of islands:

1. Fantasy Island

2. Treasure Island

3. Coney Island

4. Gilligan’s Island

5. Long Island

IMO he all ready lives on number 1.

There was a time Martin Lawrence was the premiere idiot among black entertainers. After all, directing traffic in your underwear & doing the most illiterate monologue ever on live TV ( Saturday Night Live ), pretty much locked him in for the 90s. But the planet sized ego, only matched by the inverse size of Tyler Perry’s talent, gives him the lead in the 21st century. Athletes don’t count, they have too unfair an advantage—nobody expects them to be smart. They are legion and so competitive, it’s difficult to choose one; that list changes on a daily basis. With entertainers ( sic ) one needs to evaluate a body of work. In this case, the body is a male, wrapped in mama’s clothing & Holly Woodlawn make up.

Let’s get one thing totally straight. I do envy people who can make money doing what they want to do in life. However, I can’t respect it when the method employed is such bullshit. Historically, when plays & acting were evolving, the rôles of women characters were portrayed by men. This is because along with not bathing, Europeans in the Middle Ages and on into the Elizabethan period, believed any woman who’d be in the show business was a whore. [ The Greeks who started staged performances, were another bowl of grapes. Too much for this post to handle.] Typically, they were correct, a girl’s got to eat and pay for frilly things too, ya’ll. Today, it’s somewhat the same, though it’s— if you are a man dressing as a woman for a payday, you are a whore. Hack. Whore. OK, a whore-hack. Never to be confused with a Horshack. That’s a whole other thing. Which is not a poorly constructed brothel in Deadwood. Though it could’ve been.

Oh sure, don’t be telling me the clown wrote the part( s ), so it’s his art. I grasp the process and the rationale. There’s a word for it though, let me think—oh yeah, greedy whore. There’s not one black actress alive who could play any of his lameass bitches better than he could? Oprah would’ve done it for free. OK maybe not free—but scale for sure. Too bad the woman who played Aunt Esther isn’t still with us. CCH Pounder could’ve knocked it out of the park, but she has too much integrity to do this kind of dreck. Isn’t he basing the mannerisms and traits on a real woman( or real women )? You know, maybe being so bitter ( albeit accurate ) I’ve been blind. Maybe his characters are drawn from ugly black transvestites! it would explain the broad, ham-handed strokes. Damn! I owe him an apology.

So, I’d like to solicit contributions. Send as much money as you can to Tyler Perry, so he can buy his island asap. Then we can vote him off this island and onto his own. I hear Alcatraz Island is lovely this time of year. Also affordable. Just don’t mention, it’s no longer an active penitentiary, so the male population is currently zero. All is fair in love and whore. And real estate.

I am so worn out with people pontificating, who have never read a book, much less studied history. Even in their own ( and only ) area, of so called expertise. Yet, they look at everything through a toy microscope, while seemingly observing nothing beyond the obvious at the macro level, around them. They do have a name—they are the sports talk hosts, sports writers & the majority of sports fans. There is an old saying: If you can’t be a sport, at least wear a sport’s coat. Sport’s coat collection keeps getting pilfered by the aforementioned. AND they are ill-fitting.

ESPN is purportedly a sports and entertainment network. Most of their program content panders to the NFL and the Boston Red Sox. They have all the instincts of piranha with blood in the water. The current Alex Rodriguez story of steroid abuse, is right in their wheelhouse. They are tracking down A Rod cousins with the pit-bull tenacity of a yenta trying to get a match for an unmarried Hasidic woman pushing 30.

Only a lead with a heavy anti-Yankee angle could drag ESPN kicking & screaming from sucking up to the NFL. The National Football League—where 104 players guilty of steroid use would be the results for just two of their teams. Admittedly, it would be believable if an NFL player had no idea what substance he was shooting up. Baseball players are not all that bright, but compared to football & the other sports ( tennis the one exception ), they are virtual MENSA members.

Oh yes, ESPN is having a field day with A Rod’s downfall. Every move is analyzed, every facial expression critiqued. I can’t help but wonder how they’d have handled this, had Rodriguez become a Boston Red Sox player. Something which almost happened, but for the greed of the Major League Players Association.

Here’s how I imagine ESPN handling the same story—only A Rod is on the A Sox, er I mean Red Sox. . ..

Sports Center— A MLB player, whose anonymity is legally protected, has allegedly tested positive for a substance. This is ESPN Sports Center. Now back to Mike, Mike, Mike, plus Mike with special guest—Other Mike.

Sports Illustrated has prepared a retraction regarding the revelation Alex Rodriguez used steroids. It will state that their reporter mistook the abbreviation Anon for Arod, saying- ” Hey, I was in the dark and had blinders on. . ..” Oddly the rest of the list was 103 names, all John Doe. In light of the fact Mr. Rodriguez has since admitted use of a PED, it’s all moot. Once again proving the old adage, don’t believe everything you read, and only half of what you see. QED

In a related story, there is no truth to the rumor Boston fans have thought of a new heckle. Adding the word ” sucks ” to everything, is still the sum total of their wit.

Alex Rodriguez aka A Rod aka A-Fraud aka A Roid * tested positive for anabolic steroids in 2003, according to a story in Sports Illustrated. He was a then member of the MLB franchise Texas Rangers ( now a New York Yankee ). Yankee haters have all ready jumped on the NY organization, as if they needed another excuse. This because Roger Clemens, Jason Giambi & Andy Pettitte, past & present NYY, are also tainted by purported juice use. Barry Bonds, who may actually walk on his charges, missed being a Yankee because he didn’t like the way they treated his father Bobby, who by all accounts swung to his own beat.

All these issues go much deeper than athletes doing drugs to enhance their performance. When the US passed the Volstead Act in 1919 and the Prohibition Era ruled American life, it was with the best of intentions. The negative effects of alcoholic beverage consumption on the family and society was the virtuous ( ? ) impetus. And it failed early and often, creating lots of crime, drunkenness & the Kennedys of Boston, Mass. After 13+ years & a lot of flapper pregnancies, it was repealed and Americans went back to getting a good old legal buzz. I don’t drink alcoholic beverages because I don’t like the taste of alcohol though I have been known to make a few women under the influence, sober magically, once they get a load of my act.

Anabolic steroids are illegal without a doctor’s prescription. This is due to long term effects, one of which is premature death. Even after steroids were against the law, sports entities lagged behind in the rule making department. So, part of many players defense is—it wasn’t against the rules. Then. For the record, the list of players who failed the drug test, was supposed to be sealed information. It’s not the first time the steroid issue provoked an illegal leak; an act much more sinister than a jock abusing a PED. Meanwhile, for many reasons ( mo$tly obviou$ )the National Football League rolls on, laughing up its sleeve while organized baseball weathers the firestorm.

OK enough history. It’s covered better, with more detail and annotation, elsewhere, ad nauseum. I just wanted to show I knew something about the subject, other than, it’s nothing new. Humans always want an edge. Literally, for example, as in the Stone Age case of Ogg v. Grrrn. Ogg objected to the fact Grrrn had honed the edge of his stone knife. Mr. Ogg was fighting fairly, using a blunt stone. The case was never adjudicated, as Mr. Grrrn stabbed everyone in the cave and ran. All survivors agreed Grrrn made his point—he didn’t need an edge. He was just competitive & possibly the first known sociopath.

Alex Rodriguez catches heat for everything. Choking in the clutch, dating strippers, being a numbers hanger & being seen with Madonna. All the former are moot, the Madonna thing might just prove he needs glasses and could explain the need for performance enhancement. . .. Regardless, he’s an easy target, a Golden Idol, who is turning out to be a gilded lily and getting more tarnished with each passing pigeon carrying bad news.

The Jockocracy hopped on a bandwagon ( they love to—for most of them, it’s their only form of exercise ) a few years ago. This one was called Athletes Are Rôle Models. Then some rebels ( ha ha ha ) got on the Athletes Are NOT Rôle Models float. Well, they are and they aren’t, so they got that part right. Uh, some did–never mind. Any way most of them had been hoping Mr. Rodriguez would erase Barry Bonds’ current but tainted homerun total, because in the sports world, A Rod passed for a good guy. Oops.

What I mean is, sports figures are certainly looked up to by young athletes. Guitar godz are looked to by kids with their first six-string. Rappers, by other no talents dreaming of bling & bad fashion statements. But are they models for morality & integrity? Nope. In fact, hardly anyone is. Certainly there are always exceptions. Mainly because they haven’t had their privacy invaded by a voracious media. Or been caught with their pants off in Thailand. Yet.

The true disconcerting thing is the so called Court of Public Opinion. Essentially this means guilty until proved innocent (it used to be the other way around in the US) and likely even after you’re proclaimed innocent, because idiots who go by the CoPO, are too ignorant to form a new opinion. You know what they say about opinions—every one who has one is one (that’s a W quote btw).

I wish athletes never cheated. Or spouses. Or me, and I really didn’t cheat, I just happened to see a copy of a Math test once in 7th grade. Didn’t help my career—QED. I can’t condone it and I do think our culture is going downhill faster than Spanky & Alfalfa in that barrel episode of Little Rascals. That said, it might be the time to reveal Santa isn’t real. The Easter Bunny is not a hot chick who visits good boys on Easter. Though the Tooth Fairy is a fairy ( and that makes his dad sad ).

Still, somebody needs to answer why Bud Selig, Commissioner Of Baseball, makes almost 20 million per annum. Federal fatheads won’t, he’s one of them. For now. As for A Rod? I think Madonna is punishment enough.